Comfort
by Dreadlove
Summary: Comfort- Canada needs some. Featuring a child!Canada and a child!America. *Real names used*


**Edit: I fixed some things and clarified... I have to say that I am MUCH happier with it now.**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing. NOTHING.  
**

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Rain was beating on the tiles of the roof mercilessly. It soaked into the already soggy ground of England and started to choke the grasses and other assortment of plants that were sprinkled throughout the grounds of the lawn.

It was the rain that led to the immense boredom of both tiny North American countries. Arthur wouldn't let them out of the house to play in the dreary weather; _"You'll get a cold; and besides, young gentlemen do _not _splash around in mud puddles. It's just not proper."_ was his excuse. Which, of course, led to the whining of Alfred and the sighs of Matthew.

"There's plenty of stuff to do inside, boys. You can play outside as soon as it stops raining."

"But all the board games we have are_ boring!_," squeaked the nine-year-old Alfred.

"We could play Hide-n-Go-Seek," said the soft spoken Matthew.

"Ok!," exclaimed Alfred with enthusiasm; all thought of the world outside the house had instantly vanished. "I want to find you first, Matty! I'll find you in FIVE minutes, I bet! And do you know _why, _Matty?"

"Because you're-"

"Because I'm _awesome!_," proclaimed Alfred proudly, cutting Matthew off as he smiled a bright smile that cold have made even the coldest person's heart melt. (Arthur took this chance to slip out of the room and into his study to finish the mountain of paper work remaining on his desk.)

And thus Matthew began to run through the long hallways of the house, searching for the perfect hiding spot.

_Where am I?_, thought Matthew, starting to get scared. He had never ventured this deep into the house. Heck,he didn't even know that this part of the house even _existed._

He stopped in front of a wooden door that looked partly rotted and was peeling chipped marigold-yellow paint. Matthew stealthily (or what he considered stealthy, anyway) to make sure that no one was watching him walk in. When the door knob squealed as it turned and the door itself moaned open, a feeling of fore-boding washed over little Matthew. But, despite this, he tip-toed into the room and stole into a chair that groaned in disguist as he sat himself down in it.

Now, all he had to do was wait until Alfred found him.

Matthew leaned back into the hard, uncushioned wooden chair that he had been sitting in for the past few hours. The object that held Matthew's eight-year-old frame emitted an old man's creak as he squirmed around, despite his petite form. His surprise made itself evident when he jumped slightly. With a steadying breath, Matthew gazed out into the room before him.

The chair he was situated in was sleeping in a dusty corner. Matthew's right arm was caged by a wall, his left arm, however, was free to move. In the latter direction was the threshold that led into and out of the long-forgotten room. Matthew's azure-violet gaze flickered over to the desolate walls, which might have once been painted a cheerful turquoise, but have long since faded to a pale, melancholic gray. With the addition of the meager furnishings (the only furniture that was placed in the room was a small bed, placed in the corner farthest from Matthew, and the ancient chair holding him aloft) and the lack of proper decoration, the room seemed to sag and weep. The only source of light came from a small window that peered at the outside world on the wall that was in front of Matthew. Moonlight filtered in from the window and only deepened the sadness of the room.

A sigh tore from Matthew's lips. The bleakness of the room was eroding all other emotions until only a sense of overwhelming despair remained.

In an attempt to escape the crushing woe that the room emitted, Matthew pulled his legs to his chest, wrapped his arms around them, and buried his face in his knees.

The room then began to eat at Matthew.

The once-harmless moonlight that the window produced clawed at him. The walls began to close in on Matthew; the space from under the bed grew claws that reached toward him and shredded the air beneath Matthew's chair. The room that once reeked of sadness now terrified Matthew, who was profoundly affected.

Matthew's breathing soon became ragged and uneven. Silent tears streaked down his nose and his pants' leg, and pooled near his socked feet. His quiet crying continued for a few minutes until they escalated into desperate sobs. Matthew felt as if the room he was seated in was sapping all happy thoughts and feelings from his being. His crying became so intense that he soon lost himself in it.

"Matthew? Maaaaathew?! Where are you, Matty?," called a voice in the hallway outside the Room of Despair. It never even reached Matthew's ears.

He never heard the grinding of the door knob when it was twisted.

He never heard the creaking of the door as it was practically thrown open.

Even the sound of a relieved voice turned worried and became high pitched. The gasp that was delivered was completely lost on Matthew.

The only thing that Matthew knew was that he was being pulled out of his fetal position by familiar hands. He knew that his head was being tucked under a tiny jaw as arms that he knew held him in a tight embrace. Matthew felt the consolation rolling off of the being that rocked him back and forth in waves.

In a matter of about five minutes, Matthew's sobs were reduced to occasional sniffles. Only then did he look up at the figure that held him close.

Bright blue eyes laced with concern and tenderness looked back into Matthew's. His attention was soon captured by a blonde cowlick; he sniffled and then smiled at it. It was one of the things about Alfred that could console Matthew, no matter how dark any situation might appear. Alfred's brilliantly blonde hair only strengthened the impact, like the sun continueing to beat down on already badly-burnt skin.

"Hey, Matty… You alright now?," Alfred's normally obnoxious voice was quiet.

"Y-yeah… I think," the sentence was punctuated with a hiccup and a deep breath. Exhaustion smoothed out the final wrinkles that were Matthew's discomfort. His eyelids began to droop as he stated, "Thank you for finding me, Alfred."

Alfred smoothed out the strands of Matthew's hair that resided at the back of Matthew's head. "Well, duh I found you, Matty. You're my little brother. It's not like you were hard to find- I could hear you from the other side of the house," though Alfred's voice was playful, there was a quiet affection that came from underneath the words. Soft lips pressed against Matthew's forehead as his eyes closed for the night.

"I told you I would find you."

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**Eheh. I have to say that I am fond of the Over-protective-brother!Alfred.**

**Yeah. This was just drabble, if you couldn't figure that out... XD This was more for me than anything I guess.**

**I needed something cute. My mind gave me this. **

**Yey for brothers!  
**


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